


I Need a Friend/ A Friend in Need

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: Cas offers to help the reader with a problem when Dean declines. Fluffy smut.





	

“I’m too damn tired,” Dean said through clenched teeth, glaring at you from across the table, insistently shoving your foot out of his lap for the third time that hour.  
You smiled sweetly, pointedly folding your arms while leaning forward, whispering, “I hear reduced stamina is one of the first signs of aging.”  
“Nice try, Y/N,” Dean snorted derisively, narrowing his eyes, “but pissing me off will get you nowhere.”  
“That’s okay Dean, I’ll just take care of myself,” you sneered at the older Winchester, pushed away from the table, and stormed out of the room.  
Sam fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair and ducked further into the pile of files he was researching.  
“Yeah, you do that sweetheart,” Dean saluted your exit with a wry grin and a swig of beer, “remember me fondly when I’m gone.”  
From his seat in the corner, Castiel glanced quizzically between Dean and the door before closing his book, standing, and making to follow you.  
“Cas, grab me another cold one while you’re up,” Dean peered over his shoulder and finding the doorway empty, his gaze fell on his brother, “hey, Sammy.”  
Sam smirked, flipping open his laptop, “Yeah, get it yourself grandpa.”  
Dean opened his mouth to retort, thought better of it, and simply pursed his lips and nodded at the absurdity of the situation.

You seethed down the hallway toward your room. You desperately needed to let off some steam after the last hunt, and apparently tracking a pack of Werewolves through a heavily forested national park left Dean too exhausted to man up, again. Usually he was all for a round or two of non-committal adrenaline-driven post-hunt sex, but lately you’d been left to your own devices, literally.  
“Y/N,” Cas’ deep voice reverberated off the tiled walls, startling you from your thoughts, “I can take care of you.”  
You peered up to find the trench coat clad seraph directly in your path. You studied the sincere aspect of his face and laughed lightly to yourself. Not that you hadn’t thought of the angel in that way many times and pondered in great detail about what lay beneath all those unnecessary layers of clothing, but he clearly had no idea what was going on, “Cas, thanks, but…”  
“You’re frustrated,” he cut you off, taking several steps forward into your personal space, compelling you to look upward to maintain eye contact, the fabric of his coat brushing the backs of your hands, “Dean is unwillingly to help. I can help.”  
You gazed wonderingly into his intensely striking blue eyes, tremendously turned on by his assertive body language, quivering at the idea of taking up his proposal. But you knew he couldn’t possibly be offering what you needed. An amused smile pulled at the corner of your mouth, “Really Cas, it’s nothing you can help me with.” You shook your head at his naivety and side-stepped him to continue down the hall.  
“Perhaps I did not make myself clear,” he firmly caught your arm, voice low, edged in gravel.  
You stopped, pivoting on your heel to face him again, curiously arching an eyebrow.  
“You desire intercourse,” he said plainly, “to relieve frustration.”  
Shocked, you choked on your own spit, coughing violently, gripping the angel’s arm for support.  
“I know you have thought of me in a sexual context,” he spoke frankly, patting your back, trying to ease your coughing fit, “on more than one occasion I have answered when you called my name to find you asleep, sheened in sweat, pleasure lining your features.”  
You felt your cheeks flush with heat, abashedly raising your head to meet his gaze, “Cas, I had no idea.”  
“Of course,” he abruptly cast his eyes down, shrinking away from you, “humans often don’t remember their dreams. I apologize for my boldness.”  
“No, I remember, I definitely remember,” you slipped your hand down his arm, sliding your fingers across his palm, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “you never, I mean…I just didn’t think it interested you.”  
He studied your grasp on his hand, flexing his long fingers experimentally around yours, “I did not wish to step on Dean’s toes, so to speak.” His eyes flitted back to yours, posture straightening with renewed conviction, “Tonight it became clear to me that your relationship with him is one only of convenience, and it does not appear to be convenient any longer for either of you.”  
“It’s called friends with benefits,” you said quietly, searching the angel’s luminous eyes for any sign of hesitancy. He beamed back at you with the self-assuredness of purpose only a celestial being could possess. Gravitating toward him, you moved your hands to trace over the muscles of his chest, focus drawn to his slightly parted full lips as you licked your own, “And I’m officially revoking Dean’s membership card.”  
The hint of a smile teased across his mouth as he wrapped his arms around your waist, settling on the small of your back, drawing you near.  
The scent of him, the leaden calm before a storm, the radiant warmth of his grace, pleasantly overwhelmed your senses. “Now about your offer of assistance,” you reached up, languidly tangling your fingers in his hair, “I accept.”  
His lips met yours in a torrent of need, the momentum of his unbridled lust pushing you both backward. In the instant you anticipated your back to roughly strike the wall, you instead found yourself lightly falling back onto your bed with an astonished gasp. Evident by the subtle grin on his face, you could see Cas was utterly pleased with himself at your reaction.  
Grabbing his tie, you used it as leverage to angle yourself up to kiss the line of his stubbly jaw, humming with delight, “What else can that grace of yours do?"  
A growl rumbled from within his chest as he settled his body against you, pressing you into the mattress, ghosting a kiss over your ear, hot breath admonishing, “Patience.”  
You groaned in mock protest, slithering your hands beneath his coat and digging your fingers into his biceps, “I’m not interested in virtues, angel.”  
He inclined back to observe you fully, expression stern save for his blue eyes, now dark and swirling with desire, “Perhaps not now, but when I’ve finished with you, you’ll be begging me for mercy.”  
An involuntary whimper escaped your throat, “Sweet mother of God, Castiel. Keep talking like that and I’ll get off without you even laying a finger on me.”  
With a grunt, he pushed off of the bed to stand at your feet.  
“What’s wrong?” You propped yourself up on your elbows, the thought fleeting that it might have been a mistake to mention his father.  
He squinted at you, tilting his head askance, “Would you like that? For me to,” he deliberately paused, “to get you off. Without touching you?”  
You blinked slowly, lost for words. All you could do was nod.  
“I need you to say it,” Cas said, loosening his tie.  
The sexually confident seraph was absolutely nothing like the shy and uncertain companion you’d imagined he’d be in bed - he was so much better. “Yes, Castiel,” the words rolled off your tongue like a prayer, “I would like for you to get me off without touching me.”  
He jutted his chin forward, fists clenched, tone serious, “Take off your clothes.”  
Fingers moving swiftly to your shirt, faltering at each button in eagerness, you obediently tossed the garment aside.  
The angel’s unwavering gaze bore into you, roaming over each new inch of flesh made visible as you shimmied and kicked out of your jeans and panties. Reaching back to unclasp your bra, you eyed his coat suggestively and halted your frenzied pace, “Is this a ladies first thing? I mean, I appreciate the nicety, but maybe you’d like to make yourself more comfortable too.”  
He took the hint and unhurriedly shrugged out of his trench coat and suit jacket without breaking eye contact, “Better?”  
You swallowed a moan as he unbuttoned and began to carefully roll up his sleeves - your eyes drinking in the well-muscled arms and prominent shoulders outlined under his white dress shirt. He truly was going to make you beg for mercy if you had to wait any longer. Your hand impulsively slipped between your thighs, dragging your middle finger through dripping folds.  
“No touching,” Cas chided, making a minute gesture, angelic grace swatting your hand away.  
You groaned a mixture of disappointment and anticipation, “Come on angel, quit being a tease.”  
His upper lip twitched ever so slightly in a modicum of self-restraint as he unknotted his tie, pulled it from his collar, and tossed it beside you, “Bind your wrists.”  
Heart pounding, you fumbled to retrieve the tie. Scooting backward, you secured a simple noose around your wrists, fastened the end to the headboard, and tugged down snug. You glanced to him for approval, your voice cracking at the sight of his pupils now shimmering with a faint blue light, “Is this okay? I…” The words and thought were lost as a wave of grace broke across your skin rendering you incoherent with pleasure. Your head dropped to the pillow, exhaling sharply as a second wave of grace thrummed with mounting intensity from your breasts to your sex. With every nerve ending on fire, his grace unrelenting, winding you tighter and tighter, it was all you could manage to simply remember to breath - panting Cas’ name with each desperate gasp for air. The burning in your core spread tendrils of heat across your ribcage, down your thighs, twisting around your breasts – everywhere but where you needed it most to find release. “Cas, mercy,” the words were barely a whisper, “please, mercy.” Instantly his grace was inside you, swirling over your g-spot, breaking the tension in your body, allowing you to climax.  
He subdued your screams of pleasure with his mouth, pliant lips moving fervently against yours, slowly withdrawing the ministrations of his grace as you tensed and shuddered against his frame. As your muscles began to relax, cries settling into a shallow whimper, he released your mouth, moving his attention to suck a deep red bruise on your neck, peppering delicate kisses on the still sensitive skin of your collar bone.  
You yanked on the binds of the tie, desperately yearning to touch the angel, to pull his lips back to yours. Sensing your struggle, he reached up, freeing your wrists.  
Instantly you wrapped your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his, tongue probing to explore his taste. Hooking your leg behind his waist, you rolled him onto his back with a grunt. Straddling him, balancing your palms flat on his torso, you sat up, shifting your weight from knee to knee, rocking your hips against his clothed arousal. The angel closed his eyes, letting out a guttural groan, the sound sending shivers across your bare flesh. The urgency of your own release satisfied, you took your time unbuttoning his shirt, continuing to rock gently into his arousal. You cooed admiringly, “That’s some trick with the grace. Do they teach you how to do that in Heaven?”  
He opened heavily lidded eyes to meet your gaze, fingers grazing your thighs, “No, not exactly.”  
You hummed, leaning down for another kiss, brushing your nose across his before sitting up again, “Then where exactly does an angel of the Lord learn such an ungodly way to please a human?”  
“You,” he groaned again, kneading his fingers harder into your thighs, trying to create more friction in your movements, “You imagined it in a dream. Grace…”  
“Kink,” you finished his answer with a laugh, “I remember.” You slid backward, hands delving to his belt buckle, unzipping his fly. You slipped your fingers beneath his boxers, freeing his cock from the confines of the thin fabric. Bracing your forearms on either side of his chest, you slid his cock teasingly between your folds. His fingers dug sharply into your thighs. You laughed, dropping your head to his ear, breath hot, “And if we’re revisiting my dreams, angel, you know what happens next.”  
He turned his head, capturing your lips with a hungry growl. You reached between your bodies, grasping his shaft, guiding the tip to your entrance. You sank back onto him, gasping as he filled you perfectly. With a grunt, he wound his arm around your waist, keeping himself firmly buried in you as he rolled you over. You crossed your feet behind his waist, coaxing his body onto yours as your lips met passionately. He began to thrust into you gently, tenderly nuzzling your neck. You grazed your hands over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles, wondering why he was taking it so slow, realizing it’s what he thought you wanted. You dug your nails into his back, nipping at his ear, “Castiel, I want you to take what you need.”  
He stilled himself, staring at you intensely, the wall of restraint behind his eyes crumbling as he pondered your suggestion. Suddenly he flipped you over, drawing you up to his chest, biting the nape of your neck as you squeaked in surprise. Pressing on the small of your back, he bent you over, grabbed your hips, and slamming his cock back into you, skin slapping skin, he set a brutal pace. Your fingers clutched the sheets, his powerfully deep thrusts causing you and the bed to moan. His hand reached out to gather your hair, and you arched your back, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit your g-spot. You could feel the coil in your core tightening as his thrusts became more urgent. He released your hair and you dropped your chest to the bed, gasping, “So good.”  
He reached around you, continuing to pound into you as he circled your sensitive mound with a single finger, voice gravel, “Come for me.”  
You complied, tumbling over the edge, walls clenching around his cock as he found his own release, hips stuttering, cock twitching, spilling his warmth inside you.  
The angel collapsed, pulling you into the crook of his arm. You both lay there for some time, not speaking, listening to the sound of the other’s breathing.  
“Cas, tonight was,” you broke the silence, brushing a dark brown curl from his forehead, caressing his cheek with the back of your hand.  
“Amazing,” he finished your thought.  
You smiled, “Yeah, amazing.” You blushingly tried to cover your mouth as a yawn escaped.  
Eyes gleaming, he smiled back warmly, “You’re tired, sleep.”  
You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek before rolling over with a sigh, presuming he would leave, just like Dean always had, and not wanting him to see the hope in your features that he would stay - that you wouldn’t have to wake up another morning alone. You held your breath, eyes squeezed shut. The mattress shifted as he moved to the edge of the bed, away from you. You shakily exhaled disappointment.  
The lamp on the nightstand flicked off, and suddenly he was beside you again, kissing the point of your shoulder, burrowing his face into your hair, warm breath fanning your neck, arm draping comfortably over your waist, “Goodnight, Y/N.”  
Sighing contentment, you entwined your fingers with his, guiding his palm to rest over your heart. You didn’t know it yet, but from that moment on the angel would always be there for what you needed most of all - a love you hadn’t dared to imagine was possible.


End file.
